


I still get a little scared of something new (but I feel a little safer when I'm with you)

by Gingersnaps (K___P)



Series: Not-so-traitor traitor Wilbur fics [4]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Stargazing, Traitor Wilbur, actually no I lied, does it need to be though, this is just a beach and comfort and not much else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27094036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K___P/pseuds/Gingersnaps
Summary: Niki has always been mild, voice soothing and clothes soft; lenient and mellow and calm.She has always been so soft that people oft forget that she is the rock, sturdy and resilient and unwavering.OR: wil gets a break, a hug, and a friend. niki is there to be the only well-balanced person he knows aside from phil (and then it all goes to shit, because nobody can have anything nice)
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Niki | Nihachu & Phil Watson, Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Series: Not-so-traitor traitor Wilbur fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971445
Comments: 23
Kudos: 242





	I still get a little scared of something new (but I feel a little safer when I'm with you)

**Author's Note:**

> i lost like half of the first bit im so fuckin angry i spent like an hour typing this up
> 
> ALSO this is further on in the timeline thing, cause part "2" ended up splitting into three separate fics, so heres the basic rundown;  
> -actual part 2 of this series took place over roughly a week; schlatt returned to the smp a few days after that, while wil showed up at phils house a week after it happened  
> -wils been living at phils house for about two weeks-ish, and niki showed up three days before this fic takes place
> 
> I'm not sure if it counts but Wilbur panics a bit, not a full on panic attack but still, if you wanna skip it go from Tommy's second speech in sect2 and either skip to the end of it or go to Niki's appearance 
> 
> With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy :} I wasted an entire day on this

"I have to go back soon, Niki. I've ... wasted too much time here already." Wilbur's voice was quiet, barely audible over the crashing of the waves. Of course, Niki heard it anyway; over time, she had become fine-tuned to the little tells in her boys.

(When Tommy was scared, he talked louder, quicker; he'd lash out in explosive anger and cling desperately to those around him in the same heartbeat. When Tubbo was scared, his voice would shake, crack; his hands would twitch with restless energy, always on the lookout for something he'd missed.

When Wilbur was scared, he'd shut down anything unnecessary; he reverted back to his single-minded survival mindset, cutting down anything that could pose a threat or weakness. They were the same thing to him in his fear.)

"Have to go back where? Pogtopia?" Even as she said it, they both knew she was wrong. Despite this, the derisive scoff that came from Wilbur almost broke her heart, hopelessness glittering in his eyes.

"Pogtopia? Niki, they _despise_ me. They hate my guts! I know for a _fact_ that Techno would kill me the moment he got the chance, and Tommy would probably just sit there and watch it happen."

By the end, his tone was almost hysterical, gaze unfocused even as his voice never rose above the sea. With a painful jolt, she noticed tears building up in the corners of his honey-brown eyes.

"He would-" his voice cracked, tears beginning to drip down his cheeks, running to his chin. "...he would..."

Without a word, Niki pulls him in for a hug, resting her chin on soft brown curls. For a moment, they sit in silence, seagulls cawing in the far distance as the sun continued its descent towards the endless ocean. Warm orange light cast long, lingering shadows across the beach, half-finished sandcastles scattered across the sand like fallen civilisations. The air was still, peaceful; a little bubble of calm.

Until, muffled against her sky-blue sweater, Wilbur let out a choked sob. Operating on instinct, she tightened her arms around him, humming a few low, soothing notes as the sobs continued, casting her eyes out, towards the sunset-stained sea.

And so, they stayed that way for what could have been days, the night chill chased away by the protective heat of Niki's arms around her leader.

"...Niki..." She tilted her head in acknowledgement even though he couldn't see it, fingers never pausing as they continued to card through his windswept hair. "I have to go back. To Schlatt. He's-He's going to be so angry, I've been away for too long-"

"Wil, breathe."

Niki knew her voice was soothing, a balm on people's nerves; lulling and tranquil and soporific, a calming melody on a still summer's day. Wilbur's was equal and opposite, lilting and lovely to listen to, persuasive and inviting and dangerous, the call of a current in the clear ocean.

She was rewarded with Wilbur taking in a deep, shuddering breath, before going almost completely boneless in her arms. He nodded, blearily blinking up at her from where his head rested on her lap. She took in a deep, exaggerated breath, waiting for him to copy, a small smile tugging at his face that she couldn't help but mirror.

"Now think, Wil. What do you want to do after this? Not what Schlatt wants, or Phil wants, or I want - what _you_ want."

The following silence is almost saddening, the little crease forming between his brows and the worrying of his lip making her heart ache, and she found herself wanting to wrap her arms around him until he felt safe, until that hollow look stopped appearing in his eyes for good. She wanted to see him smile, free and bright and carefree, wanted to see him laugh again, without any restraint, any pretences. She wanted to see _Wilbur_ , her friend, mischevious and caring and full of life.

(Deep down, she knew that his talents for leading, for manipulating, twisting others' ideas to his benefit wouldn't disappear overnight. She knew that the perfect mastery of his expressions, the meticulous nature of his actions, couldn't be undone immediately; she had seen him in Manburg, all perfect control and forced detachment. She had seen him laugh, grins easy even when he didn't remember anything twenty minutes later.

She couldn't help the bitterness that grew, watching him close off from those around him, be shunned by those he had once called his brothers in their hurt. She couldn't help the bitterness that grew, watching Fundy sigh at the sight of him. She couldn't help the bitterness that grew every time Schlatt threw him a fond look, teasing him with no real intent to hurt behind it.)

"I..." Wilbur frowned, staring up at the sky, painted in blacks and blues and silvers. "I know I _don't_ want to go back to Manburg. Or-Or Pogtopia. But I know I have to, even if it's just for a little bit."

He met her eyes; she leaned over him, tilting her head so her hair tickled his face. "And then? After you leave Manburg?"

"I think ... I think I'd like to explore, maybe build a new house by the sea, away from all the wars and politics and my br-" His face drained of colour as he cut himself off, but Niki just hums.

"That sounds nice, Wil. Do you think you'll do it on the SMP, or a new world entirely?"

She doesn't miss the relief on his face as he exhales, reaching up blindly to grab at the sky. "I'm not sure yet. All I know it that I don't want to be alone, you know?"

(Later, he tells her about the times he's woken up, shaking and desperate and terrified out of his mind, newly-revived and looking for _someone_ around him. He tells her about the times he's been forced to realise he's the only survivor of a disaster, a calamity, his only companion leaving him in the dust. He tells her about the dependency they've formed out of necessity.

She thinks of a girl she once knew, as wild as her namesake, teeth bared into a fanged grin. She thinks of returning to the overworld, of looking around excitedly for her companion, of the crushing realisation that she was _gone_.)

"...yeah. I know."

And they leave the conversation there, Niki running her fingers through dark curls as Wilbur uses her lap as a pillow, sleepily pointing out constellations to her. Neither mentions nor minds that they're all wrong, overlapping and contradicting each other; instead, they tell increasingly tall tales about each one, grinning under the pale moonlight.

Some time later, when they'd fallen back into a comfortable silence, Phil came over to them. He didn't reprimand them for staying out so late, or ask what they were doing; all he did was place a small basket next to Niki, covered by a red and white checkered blanket. He leaned over to ruffle Wilbur's hair, the latter blinking blearily up at him, with a confused "mnnr?" noise. She stifled a giggle as Phil dropped his bucket hat on his face, and Wil didn't even try to move it. The two of them share a smile that felt almost secretive, and he reached over to ruffle her hair too, before draping his long coat over them both.

"Don't catch a cold, alright?" He had told her, smile gentle, voice quiet. Speaking in anything louder than a whisper felt fundamentally _wrong_ , the velvety blanket of stars muffling their words until all the remained was the wavering crash of the white-tipped waves. With that, he had left, feet making almost no noise on the soft sand, leaving Niki alone to think in the cool night air.

\---

"You ready to go, Wil?" Niki asks, turning back to Wilbur with an eyebrow quirked. He knows her well enough to discern the question hidden beneath her words:

_are you ready to face everyone, Wil?_

(If he was being honest with himself, the answer would be a resounding _no_. Dread filled him at the very thought of seeing Schlatt again, talking like nothing had happened, making him relax even when he wanted to stay on guard. Such was the skill of a conman.)

"Yeah, I think so." As he steps up to stand next to her, she tangles their fingers together, comfort and reassurance and a promise all at once.

Behind them, Phil lets out an expectant cough, raising his eyebrows at them in mock disapproval. "You'd really forget to sat goodbye to me? I'm wounded, mates."

Wilbur snorted at the same time Niki giggled, both crossing the room. Phil wraps Niki into a warm hug, handing her the basket she'd been eyeing ever since the beach, much to her delight. Then, he reached up to mess up Wilbur's perfectly styled bedhead, laughing at his affronted shout before he, too was pulled into a hug.

(Phil had always been a good hugger, feeling safe and secure and _present_ no matter what. And maybe, just maybe, Wilbur just needed a bit of certainty in his life, a place to run to and lick his wounds, to hide away when the world got turbulent.)

"Stay safe, Wil," he mutters, "and feel free to come back here if you need it."

Very adamantly _not_ tearing up, Wilbur nods, reluctantly stepping out of his hold. Niki re-linked their fingers, and together they stepped over the threshold of the portal, waving even while the magic blocks their view.

Travelling through portals tends to be unpleasant at the best of times. No-one knows how they work, nor where they came from; they just always _were_ , ancient and arcane.

It feels like no time at all has passed when Wilbur is thrown unceremoniously out of the portal, watching it close behind him before he looked around. He couldn't hear Niki anywhere, powder-blue and honey-gold missing from the greenery around him. Maybe it's dread, maybe it's anticipation; maybe it's cowardice that stops him from taking in his surroundings.

He's forced to, though, when he hears a rustle in the shrubbery behind him. Spinning on his heel, iron sword immediately in his hand as he drops into a defensive position, he comes face-to-face with--

"Techno? Techno, where'd you run off... to..." Tommy slows to a halt beside his pink-haired brother, both staring at Wil with twin expressions of shock. He's still wearing his clothes from Pogtopia, Tubbo's green scarf tied around his neck, clashing horribly with the red highlights on his shirt. His blond hair has grown out a little more (it was always him or Niki who cut hair in Pogtopia-), and it looks as if he's grown taller.

"...Wilbur?" Techno's voice is low with disbelief, as if speaking louder would shatter the fragile moment, make Wilbur flee. Wilbur felt a similar way, subconsciously shifting his weight to the side, shifting his feet; if either took a step towards him, he'd bolt, directions be damned.

(He'd become awfully good at running over the years, able to outrun floods and lava and explosions. He wondered if he could outrun his brother.)

Tommy doesn't have those same reservations, eyebrows furrowing the longer Wilbur doesn't speak. "Wilbur, it's us. You know, your brothers? Fellow revolutionary and rebels? We, uh, got exiled by Schlatt together?"

Each word feels like a punch to the gut, dredging up every ounce of guilt and regret and shame Wilbur had been feeling for the past month. The younger takes a step forward; he takes a step back. His breath is catching in his chest, coming in short and sharp and shallow. His eyes are blurring round the edges, ears beginning to ring as he struggles to remain _here_.

He doesn't see Tommy, his brother, fellow revolutionary and rebel. He sees Tommy, aggrieved, full of words to make him hurt. 

All he can think of is Tommy's face, contorted into a mockery of its usual grins, distorted grotesquely into a vicious snarl; can only think of his voice, ruthless and relentless as it cuts deep into his heart.

One of them - he can't tell which, doesn't want to tell which - is speaking, saying something, sound harsh and grating against his sensitive nerves. All he knows, through the haze of _danger danger get away leave go somewhere safe go to Phil Phil Phil-_ , is that one of them is moving towards him, a glowing purple tint to their side.

( _"If I ever see you near Pogtopia or any of its residents," Techno says, slow and heavy, "I'll cut you down where you stand."_ )

_No no nonono he didn't want to die-_

"Stop it!"

A voice - _Niki's_ voice - cuts through the fog, halting the figure in its tracks. In what felt like the blink of an eye, Niki herself was standing in front of him (when had he fallen to the floor?), arms extended protectively. She cut an intimidating figure, small frame radiating intent as she clenched her fists. "Stop it. You're scaring him, can't you see?!"

His vision was slowly clearing, affording Wil a view of Techno looking more shellshocked than he'd ever seen him. Beside him, Tommy looked as if someone had dropped an anvil on his head,

Niki didn't wait for them to recover, grabbing Wilbur's hand and taking off into the woods.

\---

"Leave."

Niki's voice rang out clear and true, sending a jolt of ( _terrorterrorpanicdanger_ -) surprise down Wilbur's spine. In all the time he'd known her, she'd never spoken with so much venom dripping from her words; the only time he could remember something remotely similar was during his banishment.

And so, to hear it in the one place in the SMP that he felt safe ... His mind flicked back to the supplies he had on him: an iron sword (knockback, instead of sharpness. Phil hadn't said a word about it, for which he was grateful); an invisibility potion (Niki had pressed it into his hands as soon as they got a safe distance from the portal, a serious look in her eyes); and, last but not least, an ender pearl.

Neither Niki nor Phil knew he had it on him. He wanted it to stay that way.

(Didn't want them to know how cowardly he was.)

He zoned back into the conversation as Niki's voice dropped into something bordering on a growl. "I said leave! What part of that is difficult to understand?!"

"Look, Niki-"

Static filled his ears, and all he could think was an awful cycle of _nonononotherenotnow_ \- His heart pounded in his chest, a staccato rhythm to his panic's extended melody.

Never in his life had he expected Tommy's voice to provoke such a visceral and intense reaction. Never in his life had he expected to dread the arrival of one of (his brothers) his old comrades.

(Just goes to show how quickly a good mood can shatter)

Still, he found himself huddled under a table, hands playing with the ender pearl as he tried to take deep, calming breaths.

"He doesn't wanna see _either_ of you, Techno, so I suggest you leave my bakery. Now."

"Niki, please, we haven't seen him in a literal month! Just-just for one minute, alright? Not even-not even that! Thirty seconds. That's reasonable, right?"

There was a painful silence, before the door was pushed open to reveal a slightly trembling Niki. Her blonde hair was falling into her eyes, and she pushed it back with an annoyed _tch_. The moment her eyes landed on him, though, the tension left her body in a long breath, and she just looked tired.

"Wil," she started, as gentle as one would be when talking to a wounded animal, "Tommy and Techno are asking for you. Do you want to see them again, or should I make them leave?"

He cast his mind back to his conversation with Phil, reassurances and promises falling from his lips in honeyed words and naïve optimism. He cast his mind back to his childhood, days flying by in snapshots of laughter and happiness and peace.

He cast his mind back to Manburg, endless work and endless hatred and endless panic panic panic. He cast his mind back to the letters, the feelings of his (friends his brothers his _everything_ -) old allies printed in black and white, written down for all the world to see.

He pretended his voice didn't shake as he forced out a small, "please make them go."

Niki nodded, running her fingers behind his ear and playing with his curls for a second before she stood and turned. He hated himself for missing the contact (so selfish so dependent see how that worked out with Tommy with Techno with _Schlatt_ -) but found himself painfully grateful for her continued presence, steady at his side.

He can't hear what she's saying, too focused on tugging a thread from his jumper, boot tapping out an ever-changing rhythm on the floor. In fact, he only jolts to awareness when warm, familiar arms wrap around him.

"They're gone. I'm sorry it took so long, Wil." Niki's voice was a trembly whisper, and he's reminded of how, not long ago, Tommy would've been her family too, one of her special people. Wilbur finds himself gripping at the back of her sweater, burying his face in her shoulder.

And that's where they stay, the smell of bread permeating the room, protected by the other from the outside world.

**Author's Note:**

> God i was gonna make this one softer but . No . apparently you've gotta wait for me to figure out how to make my brain stop whirring
> 
> I wrote the bulk of this at midnight up til 4am, so if it's a lil incoherent, that's why
> 
> I wanted to focus more on setting up a safe place than outright bullying him but uh . Now Niki also gets a bit of the sad times sorry


End file.
